


Pi Dan

by kuonji



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-11
Updated: 2012-08-11
Packaged: 2017-11-12 00:42:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/484715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuonji/pseuds/kuonji
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>There was a trick to it. </em>Hutch visits Starsky in the hospital with a gift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pi Dan

**Author's Note:**

> This story was nominated for an [Ollie Award](http://community.livejournal.com/sh911award_com) in 2011, category "Snuggle Award (Best Hurt/Comfort story)"
> 
> Alternative Links:  
> <http://starskyhutch911.livejournal.com/475207.html>

Starsky was wallowing in self-pity this morning.

There was a trick to it. You had to talk yourself down just enough to enjoy the 'everyone should love me!' feeling, yet not enough to actually depress yourself. You had to concentrate on things that could be funny in a few hours (like how the cute nurse was once again not the one giving him his sponge bath). You had to temporarily forget about the things that could only be considered funny in a few years -- or never, such as how an infection had nearly killed him, and how, judging by how exhausted and full of pain and meds he was, he almost wished it had.

No, Starsky didn't think about any of _that_ , because Starsky was a consummate wallower.

Which was why when Hutch strolled in with a carry-out bag, Starsky was quick to grumble, "Whatever you brought me, I'm not going to be able to eat it." even as he smiled inside. He knew that Hutch would cajole him into eating anyway. His partner had probably bought him one of his favorites, just modified a little for his current state of health. He lay back, scowl still in place, ready to receive and whine about his burrito without hot sauce, or his sandwich without the mustard, or his hot dog with only a dab of ketchup and nothing else.

When Hutch smiled and didn't open the bag, Starsky began to worry.

"I got you something good today, partner."

Uh-oh.

"Define good." He sat up too quickly, and fell back with a grunt. Hutch helped him adjust the bed so that he was propped up. The solicitousness did not reassure Starsky one bit. "What'd you bring?" he demanded.

In answer, Hutch pulled out a styrofoam container and set it atop the rolling table extension. In spite of his misgivings, Starsky leaned forward to look as soon as Hutch took off the lid.

"What the hell is this?" It looked like nothing so much as millions of tiny maggots soaked in water. There were bits of green scattered on the top (garnish?) that looked like grass cuttings.

"It's _zhou_ ," Hutch replied, which was not enlightening in the least. He handed Starsky a spoon.

Fascinated in spite of himself, Starsky stirred the goop around. He yelled out loud when he turned up a black eyeball. "What the _hell_? Are ya tryin' ta poison me?"

"Don't be ridiculous. _Zhou_ is just stewed rice. It's a dish commonly served in Asia to ill and recovering people, because it's very easy on the stomach, and it's warm and soothing." Hutch took over the spoon and brought up the black object again. It wasn't an eyeball after all, but Starsky didn't have any idea what it was. "This is a _pi dan_ , a preserved egg."

"A _preserved_ egg?" Starsky pressed back against his bed in an attempt to get away from the thing.

"The Chinese make it by covering an egg with something like clay. It transforms the egg so that it will keep for a long time. Like how we make pickles or beef jerky." As Hutch continued in his 'lecture' voice, he angled the spoon so that Starsky could see the black jelly-like substance surrounding a dark greenish gel. Now that he knew what it was, he could sort of see how it was in the shape of a quarter of a boiled egg -- if it'd been colored by a demented Easter bunny.

Hutch stirred the 'egg' back in and spooned up some of the rice from the top, along with the grass. "This stuff is green onion. It's closely related to chives and tastes very similar. You like chives, right?" he coaxed.

"If it ain't on a potato, I'm not touching it. And don't you expect me to eat that egg stuff either."

"C'mon, Starsk. It's very healthy."

"You know what's healthy? Giving me a nice fresh deli sandwich instead of preserved eggs and fake chives."

"Oh, don't be childish. Didn't your mother ever teach you to try new foods?"

"Nope." He crossed his arms. "If it's so great, why don't you eat it?"

"I only bought one."

"How convenient."

Hutch glared at him. Then he set the spoon down and stalked out. Starsky stared after him, surprised at the quick capitulation. Wrinkling his nose, Starsky pushed the container away. What his partner was thinking sometimes, he didn't know...

A few minutes later, however, Hutch came back in, holding a disposable paper bowl and a plastic spork.

"You want me to eat some? Fine." Hutch spooned out a healthy amount of the stuff into his own bowl, even including, Starsky noted, some of the black and green egg. Then he took a huge mouthful. Starsky watched him, open-mouthed.

Hutch ate the entire bowl as if he had a gun to his head, mechanical and regular with no sign of either actual enjoyment or disgust. He set the empty bowl down beside the full container. "There," he said. "It's not poisoned, see?"

"That still doesn't mean I'm going to eat it!" Starsky protested.

"Well, why not? I showed you it was okay, didn't I?"

"Hutch, why is this so important to you?"

"It-- It's not. When a person goes to the trouble of getting you a meal, the polite thing to do is to at least try it."

Starsky gave him a look.

Hutch seemed to melt under his gaze. He sagged, then slouched, then lowered himself slowly into the chair beside Starsky's bed.

"When you were still in the ICU, there was a Cantonese girl two beds down." He hung his head, and Starsky took his hand, already knowing he wasn't going to like this. "Her mom was there, and she told her that all she wanted to eat was a bowl of her mother's home-made _pi dan zhou_. The doctors said the girl was stable, so her mom rushed home."

"Oh, Hutch." Starsky could guess the remainder of the story. He didn't want to hear it, but he squeezed Hutch's hand and waited.

Hutch put his head down so that his forehead rested on Starsky's thigh. "When she came back with a pot in her hands, her daughter was in emergency surgery. She never made it out of the operating room."

Starsky swallowed, remembering all the times he had been in and out of danger himself. Each reprieve had seemed like it must surely be the last. Yet he had made it this far, hadn't he? He'd paid his dues to the ferryman and come back, and he'd keep on fighting as long as he had something -- or someone -- to fight for.

He tugged gently on Hutch's hand. "I'm not going to get better just because I eat this stuff."

"Yeah, I know. It was a dumb idea." Hutch reached over to swirl the spoon inside the container listlessly.

"Not dumb."

"It's actually pretty good, though." Hutch attempted a smile as he spooned up a mouthful. He made as if to eat it when Starsky grabbed his wrist. Hutch looked up, questioning.

Starsky sighed. If he was going to get food poisoning, at least he was in the right place. He untangled the spoon from Hutch's long fingers and, with only a second of hesitation, put it in his own mouth.

It wasn't... bad. Strange. But not bad, exactly. The rice didn't have much flavor, but the texture was somewhat pleasant and, like Hutch had said, soothing. The green onion did indeed taste pretty much like chives. There was an earthy undercurrent to the taste that Starsky tried not to think about the source of. He wasn't ready to eat black eggs just yet, not even for Hutch.

He swallowed it down and licked his lips thoughtfully. Then he handed the spoon back.

"Thanks, partner," he said.

Hutch beamed. "Thank _you_."

There was a trick to being happy. It was all about ignoring the big things that you wanted and weren't coming for at least a while, if ever (such as full health and his place back on the force). It was all about appreciating the little things, like being alive another day, holding his partner's hand, and a bowl of weirdly edible goop.

  
END.

**Author's Note:**

> _For JT, always_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Some random info about styrofoam and sporks and _pi dan_ :  
> <http://www.ehow.com/about_5373104_were-styrofoam-cups-invented.html>  
> <http://inventors.about.com/od/sstartinventors/ss/spork.htm>  
> <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Century_egg>
> 
>  
> 
>  _Zhou_ is also known as congee or rice porridge, and if it's done right it's very good. Plain, it has similar taste and consistency as corn meal and is good for sick people who are having trouble keeping any food down but need some nutrition. As a substitute for dry rice, it can be paired with some pickled vegetables or pork or fish _sung_ (stir-fried, preserved pork or fish in a fluffy powdery form). As a dish in and of itself, it can be cooked with something savory. The Cantonese are especially good at it; you might have seen it if you've eaten dim sum. I would not suggest the _pi dan_ flavor for first-timers to Chinese cuisine (although I've come to find it quite tasty). However, I highly recommend the duck. ;)
> 
> * * *
> 
>   
>  If you enjoyed this story, you might try these:    
>      [Taking The Lead](http://community.livejournal.com/starskyhutch911/406195.html) (Starsky & Hutch), by kuonji    
>      [Not What You Think](http://community.livejournal.com/starskyhutch911/302989.html) (Starsky & Hutch), by kuonji    
>      [The Little Things](http://kuonji14.livejournal.com/19657.html) (Stargate SG-1), by kuonji  
>      [Yesterday](http://community.livejournal.com/starskyhutch911/474942.html) (Starsky & Hutch), by Puss  
>      [The Left Hand Of Solomon](http://daveandkensdiner.com/viewstory.php?sid=103&chapter=1) (Starsky & Hutch), by Dawnwind  
>  


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